


Have you ever heard two turtle doves?

by KingOfRats



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jon and the Starks Are Not Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 17:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17666732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfRats/pseuds/KingOfRats
Summary: The party is really only just beginning, and so is Sansa's plan - she's going home tonight with her long time crush, Jon Snow.





	Have you ever heard two turtle doves?

**Author's Note:**

> so this was initially something completely different but it mutated like a million times so im just going to throw my hands up in metaphorical disgust and post it, sorry  
> also, the title is a line from lullaby of birdland, there's a nice cover of it by mockinband on soundcloud

"I wanna leave."

It isn't even midnight yet, and the party is really only just beginning. Sansa would have been worried if her ride was one of her exes - neither Joffrey nor Harry would have been very understanding. It's Jon, though, and he just takes her hand in his and leaves, no questions asked.

It's Jon, and Sansa has known him for what feels like forever. He's smart and polite and he's been an honorary part of the Stark household ever since he and Robb met in middle school. And he's so much more than just her older brother's best friend. They had a history.

Jon had just seemed so sad after Ygritte left him, and so Sansa had offered him a pint of ice cream and a shoulder to cry on, not expecting him to return the favor when Joffrey cheated on her. And when they started spending time together afterwards, well, somewhere along the way Sansa had started nursing a crush on him. The only problem was that Jon had never indicated that he saw her as anything other than a little sister. So she'd tried to ignore it, and when that didn't work she'd tried to bury it by moving on - but after Harry "Hard On", Sansa was done settling. Instead, she was going to change his mind.

Which is why, whether Jon's her boyfriend or not, it's hard to stop herself from wrapping his jacket around herself. Jon is shrugging it off almost the moment they step out into onto the Tyrell's driveway. It's a cold night, and her dress isn't exactly fit for the weather. Smells like pine, she decides after a long inhale, like pine and leather and Jon.

"Is everything alright?" Jon asks, and Sansa realizes that she's stopped. "I know you were looking forwards to this."

His breath fogs as they stand there, and she can see the goose-flesh on his arms, but his gray eyes are totally focused on her. Sansa looks down to avoid them.

"I'm fine," she mumbles, because she is. Jon's not wrong, she has been looking forwards to tonight, just not for the reason that he thinks.

Sansa remembers greeting him at the door - her dress had been more than a little daring, on the advice of Margaery, and Jon had gone nearly slack jawed at the sight of her. "You look beautiful," he'd said after a moment of staring, cheeks red and voice husky. "You'll knock 'em dead." The only person she wanted to knock dead was him, though.

Jon brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and lifts her chin to look at him. "C'mon, sweetheart, tell me what's wrong." A thrill races down her spine. Sansa has always loved the way he calls her sweetheart, all tender and affectionate, like he means it. There are only a few inches between them, and it would be so terribly easy to just push forwards and feel his lips on hers.

"I saw Harry's hand up Myranda's skirt," she says instead, and while it isn't a lie she still feels a little bad about misleading Jon. Only a little, though, because then Jon pulls her against his chest and how can she feel bad with his arms around her?

"I'm sorry, Sansa. That prick doesn't know what he's missing" Sansa just hums in response and leans into him. "Do you want to go get anything? A milkshake, maybe?"

"No, but do you- Can I stay at your house, tonight? I don't want to be alone." The excuse feels weak leaving her lips. Jon knows that she'd hardly be alone at her house. Even if Robb didn't make it home before tomorrow, her parents and younger siblings would all be there.

Jon doesn't call it on her, though. "Of course," he says, and his lips feel like a brand where they graze her forehead.

 

Her plan starts like this : "I borrowed some of your clothes, if that's alright?" It feels like victory, the way Jon swallows and tries not to linger on her thighs. She'd stripped out of her heels and dress and replaced them with one of Jon's shirts, and while they're about the same height it's just long enough to almost cover everything.

"Don't worry about it," Jon says, but while his voice is steady his cheeks are red. And when she hugs him, he's a little more hesitant to return it than normal, like he's trying to restrain himself. "And don't even think about sleeping on the couch. You can have my bed."

He tries to pull away, but she clings to him. "I'm not going to make you sleep on the couch in your own house, Jon. We can share."

"Sansa, I-"

"Please?" She begs, and Jon crumbles and lets her lead him to bed.

He tries to stay to his side of the bed at first, but Sansa doesn't let him. She scoots closer to him until she can feel his erection against her ass, hard and hot even through the sweats he wore to bed. Jon groans as she wiggles against it, and the sound sends fire pooling in her belly.

"Sweetheart," he warns, voice low and rough, and when she doesn't stop he puts a hand on her hip, and the firm grip of his fingers set her skin aflame. "Don't tease me like that."

"Why not?" Sansa asks, trying to ask seductive.

"Because I don't think I'll be able to keep holding back if you do," he tells her.

She turns and looks at him, and she imagines that she can make out the glimmer of his eyes in the darkness. "And if I don't want you to?"

She kisses him then, hard and with a need built on years of wanting. It's like lightning when Jon kisses her back, his tongue traces her lips before it slips inside and her fingers tangle in his hair as she tries to pull him even closer - their groans blend as she rocks against his groin.

The kiss goes on and on and on until it doesn't. Jon is the one to break it, he pulls away leaving her breathless and wanting. "Jon," she keens, half plaintive half reproachful.

"We can't," he says, but the way he pushes her away only halfheartedly tells her everything she needs to know. The sheets have been thrown aside in his haste to return her affections, and his erection presses against the inside of her thigh. One of his legs has threaded its way between hers, and her skin tingles where his hair brushes. He kissed back, her blood sings, he wants her too. "You still like Harry, and I'm not even your boyfriend, and-"

"Harry can go fuck himself," Sansa snaps as she pushes forwards. One of her hands trails down to cup Jon through his sweats. "And I wouldn't mind being your girlfriend."

He's the one to kiss her, this time.

And it's only much later, when Sansa is lying in Jon's arms, boneless and sweaty and satisfied, that she will remember she never came up with a plan to tell Robb.


End file.
